Okay, so, a fictional story... I just, got inspiration for this outta no where, so I hope it's good. If not, okay. Cool. ~Red

Drops of sewage water fell onto the hard, brick floor. Slime shared the wall with the brown, soft moss creeping out of the cracks in the concrete. The long hall seemed endless. On the sides of the hall walls, there were cages. Each filled with people. Some innocent looking, others tough. Some of these people looked like they hadn't eaten in years, and some, well, hadn't eaten in weeks. Some people were digging holes in the ground, trying to escape. Others were crying, muttering, "I'm innocent, I'm innocent..."

This, was the prison of Fan. The city was filled with muggers, robbers, assassins, or worse. This city was in the country of Kir, a land filled with grassy green plains, to mountains with endless snowfall. Dry deserts with yellow sand, to wet rainforests with tons of water. Weird place, but home to most of these people.

Faint footsteps could be heard. It was a man, walking past each the cells. Everyone looked at the man, hoping they would be released. Or put out of their misery, and killed. They got louder, and louder. They finally stopped at a steel, rusty cage. A man sat in the cell, hands tied together. He looked up at the source of the footsteps, hope shining in his brown eyes.

"Fear, Kenneth. Free to go. Now get out of my sight, you dirty scum." The man in the shadow said.

"I didn't do anything, though!" Kenneth protested, his eyes glittering.

"What they all say." The man unlocked the cage door and cut the bindings off of Kenneth's wrists. "Now don't make me change my mind."

Kenneth merely nodded, then rushed out of the cell. Thank god he was out of that place. Terrible place, it was.

This, here, is Kenneth Fear, from the city of San. From the Fear clan, who didn't really strike fear into anyone. Except bad people and criminals, of course. Famous archer in this vast land, you see. His whole family was made up of archers. What the Fear clan was known for. Their superb shooting skills. A while ago, there was a huge murder. Five children, two adults, a dog, and a cow, all dead. And Kenneth, well, he was spared from the murderer. And framed for the crime. Locked up in a prison for five years. And now, do you know what Kenneth wants now?

Revenge. Sweet, bloody, but sweet, revenge. But only one thing stands in his way. Who was the murderer? Kenneth knew nothing about him. Not a name, no Clan symbol, no nothing! Sort of hard to get revenge on someone when you don't know who that someone is...

Kenneth sighed, rubbing the rope burn that had settled and numbed into his wrists after all these years of being jailed. His clothes were torn, and filthy as well. Five years of jail.. hmph! That guy is gonna pay... The breeze blew his now dirtied, and long blonde hair around, only making Kenneth's irritation grow.

As Kenneth passed by a farm, he noticed a stable. With two, nice looking horses. One a white mare, the other a black stallion. A horse would be nice to get around. Kenneth's horse was stolen from the murderer, leaving Kenneth at the scene, and framed by the guards... No one was watching, so Kenneth just sneaked up to the stable, and hopped onto the black one. "Giddy up!" He hissed quietly, kicking the horse gently in the side, which caused it to gallop and neigh loudly. A farmer turned to the horse, and his face turned red with anger, like the beat he was harvesting.

"What in tarnation?! Get back here with my horse! Guards!" Screamed the lazy, furious farmer.

"I'll bring it back someday!" Kenneth called back as the armored guards chased after him with their armored stallions.

And with that, him and his horse rode off, down the trail, pushing past anything and anyone that got in the way.

"You just got out of prison, Kenneth. And now you're stealing horses? Have you no shame? Did you not learn anything?" Nagged a voice out of no where.

That, was Fik. Kenneth's guardian spirit. She was suppose to watch his every move, and take care of him. Everyone had a guardian spirit, who was similar to their personalities. For example, a mugger would have a devious spirit, and a noble would have a serious, organized spirit. These spirits were usually animals, or people. Dead, passed away animals or humans, of course. Fik here, was a deer.

"Oh, go away, you!" Kenneth sighed, snapping his fingers, which made the horse gallop faster. "I'm not gonna get caught! And besides, I need this horse!"

"No you don't! It's stolen, so return it, and you might get a warning!" Fik sighed.

"Yes I do! I need it! I need to go to Dins, and get some criminal files!" Kenneth sighed.

"The only one you'll find is your own." The deer spirit groaned.

"Some spirit you are. I thought you were suppose to do everything with me, and agree with me?"

"No. I'm suppose to advise you, and make sure you don't get your ass handed to you on a plate."

Kenneth rolled his eyes. "Whatever. The point is, we're going to Dins and that's-"

"Look out!" Fik screeched as the horse came to a stop right at the ledge.

Kenneth looked back, seeing if the guards were trying to catch him. Damn, they were. Then he looked down, and shuddered. "Big drop," He muttered, heart pounding. "Only one way down..." Kenneth pat the horse on the neck, and he jumped down. "Don't look down!" And they were gone, out of sight of the guards.

Whoa shit. What's gonna happen? Oh Kenneth, no jumping off cliffs with stolen horses... Well, that's it for now. ~Red